Spring Break :: Cancun
by carizzle
Summary: For once in their lives, the fantastic four are going to let loose. They're going to drink beer, swim after dark, have lots of girls staying all night, and nothing can stop them. Hopefully. One major slash couple style , others het. Rated M for later.
1. Making the Arrangements

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters.

He inhaled deeply for a moment, letting the tainted air waft into his lungs, and then escape in a convulsive cough. "Dude," The dark haired one passed the rolled paper to the boy sitting to the right of him before he continued. "That shit is heavy."

Kyle laughed, taking the blunt between his first two fingers. "I'm thinking weed is not for us." His arm was shoved by the one next to him.

"Damn pussy Jew. Hand it here." The roundest of the bunch placed the burning cylinder between his lips and breathed in. All eyes were on him for a minute, before he finally shook his head and exhaled. "This tastes like shit." He passed it to the one in the orange parka. "Here, Kenny. Maybe you can eat it. Your white trash mother probably didn't feed you today anyway."

Kenny's eyebrows furrowed and he snatched away the joint. "Fuck you, fat ass."

"All right; let's get to business." Stan clapped his hands together as Kenny took in a drawl of smoke. "So far, the plan is: Kyle is telling his mother he's at my house, Cartman's telling his mom he's at Kyle's house, and I'm telling my mom we're all staying at Kenny's. What're you going to tell your parents?"

"Why the hell do I have to tell them anything? I said, 'I'm going to Cancun for spring break.' My word is law." It was silent for a moment before the rest of the group finally snickered. "Okay, okay. So, my mom said I'll go to hell and have to answer to Satan if I go and I'm not back by Sunday to go to church."

Cartman muttered something about Kenny being a poor pussy, but it was widely ignored. "Hey, weren't there supposed to be cupcakes?"

"No one said anything about cupcakes, fatass." Kyle rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm pretty sure someone said they were bringing cupcakes." Cartman stated matter-of-factly, an index finger pointed in a knowing fashion. "Where are the goddamned cupcakes?"

Stan, obviously the least annoyed, shook his head and stood, stretching a little before forcing his way out of the small huddle. "I'm heading home. Kyle, you need a ride?" The red-headed boy stood as well and followed Stan away from the other's, leaving the docks of Stark Pond and heading towards the light blue truck parked in the grass. Once the two were alone in the car, Stan laughed. "When are you gonna get a car, dude?"

Kyle answered with a chuckle. "As if. My parents won't buy me a car, or let me get a job to buy one myself. It's a lost cause." He reached across the cab of the truck to lightly push Stan's shoulder. "Besides, I have you. Why would I need a car?" Stan laughed in agreement, knowing full well he didn't mind in the least having company in his truck.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed. Stan noticed, and acknowledged just how comfortable it was. He heaved a great sigh, and rolled down his window, letting the night's air wash away the smell of weed. "I'm excited for spring break."

"Yeah," Kyle nodded, suddenly enthused. "I hope my mom doesn't decide I need to stay home to do extra credit or something. I can hear her now." He formed his lips into a frown before continuing in a high-pitched nagging voice. "Kyle Broflovski, do you expect to get into Harvard with those grades? An A? I'll accept nothing below A+!"

Stan snickered at the thought, but was more amused with how much Kyle had managed to sound like his mother. "Dude, that would be gay." A silence wafted through the truck again before Stan laughed.

"What?" Stan shook his head to Kyle's question, but he insisted. "What's so funny?"

"I told Cartman there would be cupcakes."

As realization hit him, Kyle laughed. "God, he's a fatass." The chatted briefly about leaving times and how to split the costs of gas on the trip to their spring get-away before, in what seemed such a short time, they arrived in Kyle's driveway. Kyle ran his fingers through his slightly curly hair, which was way past due for a cut before turning to Stan and grinning. "See ya tomorrow."

The taller of the two nodded and swiftly waved his hand to the boy stepping out of the cab. "'Night!" He yelled out of the open window, and then pulled out, heading towards his own driveway.

The next morning, Kyle awoke. He was not woken by his mother, his father, his little brother, or his arm clock, which he turned to face him so he could watch each minute tick by until, finally, seven of clock came around. He hopped out of his bed and rushed into the shower. As the room filled with steam, he sighed. There was no way anything could go wrong today.

Breakfast was waiting for him downstairs, but he was too excited to eat. To avoid his mother's disappointment, he grabbed a slice of toast from the middle of the table and jetted out, glad for the slight honk of a horn. "Hey, Stan!" He waved as he exited the home, dragging his brown shoes through dewy grass. "Have you told your parents yet?"

"Yeah, you?"

Kyle leaned his head back and looked to the ceiling of the cab, shaking his head. "I'm waiting for the opportune moment, dude. There's no way I can just out and say, 'I'm gonna go stay at Stan's for a week. Later!'"

"Ahh, if life were so easy." To both of their disappointment, they arrived at school much faster than usual, it seemed. When he saw Kyle's dreading face, he reminded him that it was the last day of school before their week of freedom. "Besides, we probably won't do any work today anyway."

They both entered the school, but soon left each other's sides to head to their separate classrooms. Stan took his seat next to Kenny in his first period, as usual. "Hey,"

"Yo." Stan laughed as he remembered the days when no one could understand Kenny due to his parka. While the blonde had grown out of the phase, he still often talked muffled. "Did you do the homework?"

Stan grinned as he dug in his backpack, yanking out a wrinkled paper and handing it to his friend. He nodded to a sincere, 'thanks, dude,' and turned towards the front of the room.

Two hallways away, Kyle sat, glaring at the boy sitting next to him. "Come on, Kahl. Leme borrow your homework for a minute."

"No, fatass. You should have done it last night, like everyone else did."

"Uhm, look, Jew fag, you're the only one who did it."

Kyle looked around the class, disbelieving but soon changed his mind when he noted that he was the only one with a piece of paper in front of him, filled with 25 quadratic equations. "You still aren't copying."

"Bitch."

"Fatty."

"Oh, that hurts, Kahl. That hurts. Except, I'm not fat."

"Yeah, you are."

"Well, you're Jewish."

"Yes, I am."

Cartman's eyes widened in response and he excitedly shouted, "So, you admit it!" to which Kyle could only shake his head in a disapproving manner.

The day flew by much quicker than either of the two had imagined, but they were still both terribly relieved to be back in the truck, heading home. "Dude, just walk in there and tell her what we planned. She doesn't bite."

"That's what you think," Kyle muttered under his breath, peering out the window.

"Fine, then, I'll come in and tell her."

"You will?"

Stan shook his head. "No, stop being a pussy."

Once again, Kyle hopped out of the truck, this time grumbling and stomping. Stan only laughed at how immature his usually grown-up friend was acting. He reached his house and was immediately met with a ringing phone, which he answered. "Yeah?"

"Dude, you will not believe it."

"Kyle?"

"She said, 'yes'!"

Stan grinned, shaking his head at his friend. He could already tell. It would be a fun week.


	2. That Familiar Smell

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters.

Mrs. Broflovski stood in her son's doorway, watching him pack much more than a weeks worth of clothes. "Kyle, dear, don't forget your tooth brush."

"Yeah, Mom."

"Or your allergy medication. You know how you get when you don't take your allergy medication. No one could understand you for a week when you lost your bottle. Mrs. Marsh wouldn't know what to think. Maybe I should call her just in case…" She pondered as she reached for the phone on Kyle's desk.

It was only seconds after she began to dial the number that Kyle snatched the phone from her hand, earning a disapproving look at his behavior. "Sorry." He apologized quickly, before her open mouth could spout out the one word he did not want to hear. 'Grounded.' "Just… Mrs. Marsh will tell Stan that you called, and he wouldn't let me live it down that my mother has to do everything for me."

"Well, I ido/i do everything for you." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I know, Ma. I just don't want the guys to know that."

"Well, maybe you need new 'guys'. I can call your cousin over to stay with us for the week. You guys always have fun."

Kyle let out a long sigh. "Moooom. Please. I won't forget my allergy medication."

"Or-"

"Or my own wash clothe."

"Or-"

"Or extra socks and underwear." He gently pushed her from the room. "I can handle it, Mom. Promise." And, though her mouth was agape from his actions, he slowly shut the door and continued packing.

Stan Marsh waved goodbye to his parents, and his older sister, who had arrived only hours before from her third year in college. He was glad that by the time he got home, she would be gone again, and he would only have to interact with her through an occasional email, if his mother insisted. "Bye! See you all in a week!"

"Are you sure you have enough money?"

"Yeah, Mom. I got it."

"What if you all decide to order pizza? You should help out. Do you need a few extra dollars?"

Stan thought this over for a moment, but decided he was deceiving his parents enough for one week. "No, but thank you." He stepped into his truck and turned the ignition, glad to have his mother's voice drowned out by the sound of the engine.

"I love you, honey!"

He honked his horn in reply, and backed out of the drive way, heading to Kyle's.

From just down the street, he could see Cartman's shiny, new red car sitting in Kyle's drive way. Kenny was most likely with him, he figured as he pulled into the drive himself. The door was answered within seconds by Mrs. Broflovski, who immediately invited him in, and informed him of the boys' whereabouts. ("They're in Kyle's room. But please wipe your feet first, Stanley. We just had the carpets cleaned.") He promptly made his way to Kyle's room, where he found his three friends, two of whom were lazing around the room, looking through CDs by religious bands that Stan knew Kyle had gotten for Hanukkah, but had never listened to.

"Gahd, Kahl. What is with you and all this Jew music?"

"Shut up, fat boy."

"Ahe! Shut your Jew ass, Kahl! Jesus died to save your soul! You don't appreciate anything!" He spouted, though quietly, because he knew from experience the lecture he would receive from Mrs. Broflovski about respecting someone's religion, especially while in their home; and would he like for his mother to be called, so they can discuss his foul behavior?

Kyle ignored the statement and, finally, zipped us his bag. He looked to Stan with weary eyes, and his friend immediately knew that Cartman had been there for a while, and had probably made a hundred jokes about his religion already. "Dude, you're such a girl." He joked, lightheartedly. "Aren't you ready to go yet?"

"I thought you would never ask." The red headed one heaved a great sigh before grabbing up his bag and leading everyone out of his room. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he realized he would have to tell his parents he was leaving, which would involve a kiss from his mother. Who still kissed their mother's at their age? "You guys can go ahead."

"No," Cartman insisted, in a sickly sweet tone. "We'll wait for our good friend here."

Kyle rolled his eyes and swallowed hard as his mother spotted him from the kitchen. "Kyle, dear, come give your mother a kiss." He grudgingly walked to his mom and pressed his cheek to hers. "And give your brother a hug."

Ike, who was now nearly in middle school, was just as reluctant as his older brother was, but knew the talk they would be given about loving your brother if they did not do as they were told. The two embraced quickly, and were back to their previous tasks in a flash. Kyle waved to his dad, and then they were out of the house.

"Kyle, honey bunny wunkins, come give your mommy wommy a kiss!" Cartman teased, and he was promptly flipped off by Stan. "That's right, Stanny-wanny. Stick up for your little man."

"Cartman, I swear." Kyle started, but Stan placed a hand on his shoulder and he calmed himself enough to turn around and escape into the truck. "I will kill him before this week is over, he promised."

Stan laughed, but knew it would probably come close to a murder if Cartman kept it up the whole week. As the ride started into the third hour, Kyle closed his eyes, smiling as he drifted into a comfortable slumber, against the faux leather seats that smelled faintly of engine grease and cologne; a smell he was so entirely familiar with.


End file.
